


Kings Of The Sea

by rockitcolder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Diners, Angst, Creature Castiel, Diner Owner Dean, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Mermaids, Minor Character Death, Retired Dean, Retired Hunter Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockitcolder/pseuds/rockitcolder
Summary: In a small town by the sea, Dean Winchester managed to build a life. He has a house that he can call his own and a diner that he dedicates his life to. He can even eat as much pie as he wants! But after an offhand comment to a customer sends his delicately constructed life into a tail spin, he's left reeling to protect it from the creatures of his past and something else entirely; Castiel.





	Kings Of The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! I'm finally ready to post the first chapter of my longest fic! I'm so excited!
> 
> Initially, I wanted to write the entire thing before I posted it so that it'll be a bit polished. But I found myself rewriting and rewriting the first chapter for weeks. At that rate, I was never going to post anything before the year ended. So, I decided on weekly updates at the most. Don't worry I've already outlined the entire story, so I know where it's going although I'm not yet too sure about the ending. Knowing me, it's probably going to be bittersweet.
> 
> Also, I'd just like to say I'm not from the U.S. I've never been to the U.S. The most I know from the country I got from popular fiction. So... I don't even know if you guys do some of the things I say.
> 
> I don't really know what else to warn you about this story. I'm probably going to be editing this note and adding more tags as it progresses. I'll know what to watch out for as the story becomes more concrete.
> 
> Shoutout to my beta and the only person I talk about SPN with (what? it's true hahha), my bee astronautsong!

One Friday morning, he wakes up to an overcast sky. Again. He sighs. His bed is warm and cozy but he feels off-kilter from the residue of his most recent dream. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that only stops when he hears the comforting sound of the sea breeze playing in the background. Flashes of red and black are all he can remember. But it doesn’t matter. He knows what it means. Like always, he pushes the thought away with the intent of starting the day as best as he can. The world may be filled with darkness and mystery, but in a small town by the sea Dean can pretend.

Eating breakfast on the porch has become a sort of ritual for him throughout the years. He always takes a few minutes every morning to drink coffee and look out to the sea like some 80-year-old with a 401k. There’s just something about the solitude of the miles of yellow sand and blue sea that grounds him. It helps remind him that it is real. That it is his life now. And that it has been for a while.

He drains the last of the coffee with a grimace. Black. He may have splurged a little bit and bought one of those fancy ass coffee with a fancy ass machine, but it's still a bitter mess, just a little bit more classed up or some crap. It does the job anyway. He picks up the dishes and takes them inside.

A creak on the fourth step from the door makes him smile. It's just something he's learned to love after living in a house built in the 1900's. He’s long given up on trying to make the place perfect a long time ago. But it does remind him of the peeling blue paint by the front. He really needs to repaint the entire exterior before it becomes too much work. Actually, it hasn’t been long since the last time he refreshed the color, but he doesn’t like leaving the house looking worse for wear even a little bit. It’s his.

By the time he’s ready to leave, there’s already a slight downpour of rain. He's so goddamn tired of it that he just sighs and picks up the umbrella by the door without even saying one curse word. It’s got to be some kind of record for him.

The last few days have been testing his promise to keep the driveway empty until he finds the perfect baby. Nothing just feels right. Uncle Bobby would probably let him borrow a rust bucket from the salvage yard if he wanted. But they're too much work to maintain. He could also buy a brand new car from the shops in town. But as he told Uncle Bobby, it'll be a cold day in hell before he buys one of those hippie eco crap. Uncle Bobby calls him an idjit and a drama queen. Walking to work in the rain, he has to agree.

He doesn't even want to think about the diner. There's a dull ache in his chest every time he’s reminded they didn't make enough money this month to pay everyone. It's the first time he’s had to dip into the emergency fund ever since Aunt Karen passed it down. It doesn't matter if she's assured him plenty of times that she had to do the same thing. To Dean, it just feels like another failure.

He's been too ashamed to face her that he's missed the last few Sunday dinners at the Singer household. He's probably due for an ambush at the diner sometime this week. Although, he doesn't know which one he's dreading more, the eventual scolding he'll get for not visiting or another embarrassing attempt at match-making.

He makes it to the diner just before it really pours. It’s always been his responsibility to open even on his days off. So, he’s a bit surprised to see Benny waiting outside drinking coffee. And without being completely covered head to toe.

It turns out that Benny’s thankful for the rain. He gets to stay outside before sunset and bask in the gorgeous view of the Pacific Ocean unhindered by his sunglasses. Or at least that’s what he tells Dean while they clean and prepare the diner for breakfast hour. Dean only has to nod at the right places and ask a few questions to keep him talking. He likes hearing Benny’s southern drawl and seeing him excited. The man hasn’t had much reason to lately. Neither of them have.

 No one comes in for breakfast.

They fare a little bit better by the time the lunch rush hour arrives, if Dean can even call it that. The booths by the huge windows are empty except for the last one. It’s just Chuck, the homeless guy. Dean never kicks him out even when the diner’s full, so he just leaves the guy alone and brings him a burger. Only one out of twelve tables is occupied. Old man Dan from the flower shop across the street and his wife, Amanda, are eating their daily order of tuna salad sandwich. There’s one other guy sitting at the counter that Dean doesn’t recognize. It doesn’t bother him since it’s not unusual for them to get out-of-towners.

There’s a part of him that believes he’s the reason nobody comes to the diner anymore. Maybe all it took was being rude to one important customer. Maybe the diner’s just not appealing enough. Maybe his food just isn’t as good anymore. Maybe his pies have become too soggy. Maybe the town has finally grown tired of him. And probably the worst of them all, maybe someone finally found out about his past and realized what kind of person he really is.

There are days when it’s hard to push those thoughts away. Like today.

He makes sure none of the other staff have any idea the trouble they’re in, of course. There’s no point in telling them. It’s his problem. They’re here to make a living and Dean will do everything to provide it. There are times when he thinks Benny might know something, judging by the looks he gives Dean sometimes. He always tries to be reassuring, but it gets really hard to fool someone like Benny.

The man in question comes out of the kitchen and pats Dean on the back. Dean acknowledges him with a nod. The sharp knives and bloody steaks aren't enough to keep Benny’s attention anymore. There’s only so much a cook can do in an empty diner. Dean closes the book of accounts and keeps it out of his friend's sight. The movement catches Benny’s eyes, but he thankfully doesn’t comment.

A plate of Benny’s signature pulled pork sandwich appears in front of him. His stomach gives a little grumble at the sight of glistening pork peeking out from the buns. Any other time he would have been on it in a heartbeat. It just happens that today isn’t that day.

He gives Benny what he hopes is a grateful smile but pushes the plate towards him. It shouldn’t go to waste just because Dean doesn’t want it. Benny just raises his eyebrows and pushes the plate back towards him. A surge of annoyance flares up inside him. He’s not a kid that needs to be taken care of. For a second, he’s tempted to push the plate back and forth until it evolves into a game between the two of them.

“I’m fine, Benny,” Dean pleads. “You don’t have to.”

“I know you haven’t eaten anything, brotha’,” Benny says.

“I had breakfast.”

“You had coffee.”

Dean sighs. They’ve had this conversation so many times that it’s starting to annoy him. He’s touched by Benny’s thoughtfulness, but there are other people that need it more. He thinks of Chuck who probably hasn’t eaten anything this good in a while. He looks at the plate and then at Chuck and back again. Beside him, Benny sighs. The plate disappears in front of him. Benny hands the plate to Chuck who offers a more heartfelt thanks. By the time Benny takes a seat beside him, Dean is smiling.

“Don’t think I ain’t making you another one, cher,” he warns, but there’s a smile on his face as he says it.

Dean huffs but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t doubt Benny will do exactly as he says. He just has to find a way to distract him enough to make him forget. He can’t think of anything else to talk about aside from the big elephant in the room. He chances a glance at the notebook he’s covered up with his arm. He realizes his mistake when he sees Benny looking at it with a frown.

“Tax season, am I right?” he forces a smile.

It’s definitely not tax season.

Benny just stares at him. There are a few seconds where Benny doesn’t say anything while the tight smile Dean keeps slowly slides off his face. Dean slumps on his chair and covers his face with both his hands. He sighs.

“You know you can always talk to me, right, cher? Benny says softly.

Dean nods without taking his hands off. Of all the people he’s known in this small podunk town, Dean knows Benny will always have his back. They’ve been through things worse than bankruptcy and the man’s still stayed by his side. He knows Benny’s hurt he’s been keeping away. But Dean can’t be the person who ruins the small happiness Benny has found here.

“I know the diner ain’t doing well,” Benny says. “You don’t have to keep it from me.”

Dean whips his head so fast to look at Benny who chuckles.

“Don’t look so surprised, mon cher. I got eyes too.” He casts a sweeping glance at the half empty diner.

Dean slumps even further in his seat. He keeps his eyes down and stares at the wooden counter. It needs a new coat of varnish. At that thought, he’s horrified to feel a wave of tears threatening to spill out. His vision blurs and he has to turn his entire body from Benny’s line of sight to keep it in.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers, uncaring whether Benny hears him. 

“What for?”

He was expecting Benny to tell him to keep his excuses to himself, or maybe even to yell at him, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this. The way he says it is so full of honesty and confusion that Dean has to turn around.

Benny must have seen something in Dean's face, because his expression loses its edge. The man runs a hand down his face and sighs. Dean wants to turn away again because it feels like the disappointment he’s been waiting to happen. He straightens up in his seat bracing for whatever Benny will throw at him. He can take it.

But Benny just clamps a hand on his shoulder. His grip is warm and solid but not threatening. It’s not that Dean expects Benny to hit him or anything. Despite the man’s big burly exterior, he’s just a huge cuddly teddy bear. Benny’s words not his. But Dean also knows people get tired of him eventually. He wouldn’t hold it to Benny if he did.

“It’s not your fault, mon cher. Please believe me,” Benny pleads.

He hears the words Benny’s saying, but it just doesn’t click in his head. There has to be something wrong with what he’s doing if he can’t even keep a once booming diner alive. He just doesn’t know what he did wrong.

“Of course it is,” Dean scoffs. “I just need to know what it is so I can fix it.”

Benny has that look about him that says he's ready to argue with Dean about this.

"Don't worry, Benny. I'm going to do everything to make this right. I'm not going anywhere." He punctuates this with a smile he hopes will convey to Benny how serious he is about keeping the life he built here. But judging by the sad look Benny's giving him, it was probably more of a grimace.

"Cher, it ain't even been six months yet. Maybe it's just a slow quarter. You ain't need to worry yet," Benny pleads.

Dean tries to argue but Benny cuts him off before he gets a word out. 

“Look, Dean,” Benny starts. He must be serious if he’s calling Dean by his name. “It’s the weather’s fault.”

A few seconds of silence pass but Benny doesn’t say anything else. Dean’s brain screeches to a halt trying to make sense of all the words Benny just said. Because for one second there, Dean thought he heard Benny say Dean is not a failure, it’s just mother nature being a bitch.

It’s a bit of a reach. Just a bit. Dean laughs.

“I’m dead serious,” Benny protests. His face contorts into something weird to stop a smile from forming.  

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Benny,” Dean smiles sadly. “But you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I mean,” Benny straightens up in his seat and faces him entirely. His hands are at the ready in front of him. Probably to emphasize his point. Dean just knows he’s about to get a lecture.

“Angel Pass has always been a really sunny place, right? I’ve been here for years before you arrived and I could count in one hand the number of days it rained per month. Everything’s fine and dandy. But then suddenly it doesn’t stop raining for weeks. What do the people do? Hide like the end of the world, that’s what.” Benny ends his tirade with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face like he just explained the mystery of the universe to Dean.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean says. “Sure. People don’t like going outside when it’s raining. But it’s not like there aren’t any restaurants or diners in rainy areas. Don’t tell me there aren’t any in New Orleans, Benny.”

“Yeah, but the people here ain’t used to the rain. They’re probably hoping it’ll all blow over so they can finally come out of their shells.”

It’s still as far-fetched the first time Benny explained it. Dean honestly doesn’t believe it’s as easy. Or that he can get away with fucking up so badly and chucking the blame to something else. But there’s a spark of something that feels suspiciously like hope creeping up on him. Maybe it’s not entirely the weather’s fault, but it could be one of the reasons.

“Let’s say I believe you,” Dean says. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just wait for the rain to end. And that’s assuming it’s the only reason people don't come around anymore."

Benny doesn’t reply for a moment. He’s staring out of the rain-streaked window with a hand on his chin. He looks like the bear version of the thinker. Part of him is glad Benny’s willing to help him, but he also wants to tell the guy it’s not his responsibility. Dean fucked up, so it’s Dean that has to fix it.

Before Benny can answer, Dean sees one of his customers raise a hand out of the corner of his eye. He starts, completely forgetting there are still actual customers in the diner. God, it’s probably one reason why he’s about to lose the diner.

He hurries towards the man's table with his notebook in hand, leaving Benny with his thoughts. He plasters on a smile before reaching the customer.

The guy looks like a leaf could blow him over with his wide eyes and huge ears. But the most curious thing about the guy is the grey and red sock right on top of the table. Jesus, Dean’s going to scrub the table clean once the guy leaves. 

“Heya…” the man looks at the name tag pinned to Dean’s shirt. “Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean waves the pen in his hand in acknowledgement.

“Garth,” he says offering his hand. As soon as Dean takes it, he's pulled down into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you," the guy-- Garth, finally says and lets go of Dean.

Flustered, Dean stands up immediately. Straightening his apron, he clears his throat. “What can I get you?” he eventually asks. 

“Those pies, man!” Garth gestures towards the case where there’s a row of pies on display. “They look really good! What flavors do you have?”

A burst of pride and something like joy erupts inside him at the mention of his pies. All thoughts of the shit he got himself into goes out of the window as he readies himself to wax poetic about his pies.

“Well, right now we just have the classic flavors like apple, pecan, and blueberry pie. Usually, we’d make a unique pie of the day but we didn’t want them to go to waste at the moment.”

A flicker of hesitation passes Garth’s face before he schools it into something more thoughtful and makes a humming sound. It takes a few more seconds for Dean to catch on as Garth eyes the unsliced pies. He can't help the surge of annoyance that flares within him at the thought that the guy's already judging his pies without giving it a chance.

“It’s really good, I promise. They just haven’t been selling much because…” he racks his brain for something to tell the guy. He’s not going to let the guy leave thinking that Dean’s pies are anything but perfect.

“…of the weather,” he finishes lamely. Dean instantly cringes at the excuse he doesn’t even really believe himself. To his surprise though, Garth just levels him with a curious stare.

“What do you mean?” Garth asks.

“You know,” Dean waves his hand. “Sunny town. People not used to the nonstop rain. Weatherman not knowing when it’ll stop. Just things like that. It’ll blow over soon,” he says, merely repeating every excuse Benny gave him.

Garth sits up suddenly. “Would you say..." he waves his hands around enthusiastically, "...the weather has been acting weird lately?”

That… catches him off guard. Has the weather been acting weird lately? Sure, he’s been pissed he hasn’t seen the sun properly in days. But, in all honesty, he wouldn’t have noticed anything weird if Benny hadn’t mentioned it earlier. He hasn't really lived here for a long time.

“Yes,” Dean finally admits in a flat tone.

Garth's smile looks like a kid who just got candy, all wide teeth and eyes. He holds up his finger as if to say one moment and rummages around for something.

There's a sinking feeling in Dean's gut born from years of instinct. There's something about Garth's eagerness and unassuming curiosity that rubs him the wrong way. He just doesn't know why. Dean’s fingers twitch. He forces them to stay still instead of reaching towards the phantom feeling of a gun on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Benny walking towards them. Good. At least Benny’s with him if his gut turns out to be right.

Garth straightens in his seat and gets out a new leather notebook. He sets it on the table and straightens the cover before opening it up and flipping to the first few empty pages. The sound of a pen clicking echo in the ensuing silence.

“Has there been any other problems?” Garth asks, his pen poised on the blank pages.

“Like?” Dean eyes Benny who's now standing beside him. 

“Have there been any unusual deaths recently?”

A sudden chill travels through his entire body leaving Dean numb. He opens his mouth a couple of times to say something but nothing comes out. There's a simple answer to such a simple question. He knows there haven't been any recent deaths in town. In such a small place, everyone knows everything about everyone. The last time they had a funeral was two years ago and that was because Mildred finally kicked the bucket at 100-years-old.

But the way Garth phrases the question kicks his repressed instincts into gear. How many times has he asked the same question himself? How many times has he asked unsuspecting civilians? But he's not really a civilian, no matter how much he pretends to be.

Garth takes their surprise for disbelief. He raises his finger again to hold them as if they have any plans on leaving and pats down his pockets in search for something. Dean wants nothing more than for this guy to leave. Yeah, even without tasting his pie. But with the way Garth's holding his pen a little too tightly and the way his eyes shine with eagerness, Garth won’t stop asking questions. The most they can do is assure him Angel Pass is the most boring and most normal podunk town in the history of America.

“Aha!” Garth finally pulls out whatever he’s looking for.

Dean already has an idea what it is. And sure enough, Garth thrusts an official looking badge towards them. Dean doesn't think he's ready to actually talk to the guy so he lets Benny take a quick look first. After a few seconds of checking it, Benny hands it to Dean with forced seriousness like he's trying to stop a smile. In spite of himself, he reaches out to take the badge and open it.

"FBI?" Dean's shoots an incredulous look to Benny who has stopped trying and is just grinning at Garth. Is this guy for real? "What would the FBI want with shitty weather?"

"What!?" Garth's eyes widen. He grabs the badge from Dean to check it himself. The moment he sees the FBI logo, his cheeks turn an interesting shade of red. He almost feels bad for the guy. Almost. He probably isn't used to talking to the witnesses. Guy like him could use a partner or else he's not going to last in the business.

"Yeah, FBI." Garth clears his throat and puts back the badge in his front pocket. He wipes the bead of sweat forming on his forehead. ”I wasn't actually sent here for a case, you know? I just happened to drop by and you told me about the things, I mean, the problems you were having, and I thought, what if I can help this guy? You seem like a nice guy and I like the food, you know? I mean, of course I know the FBI can't do anything about the weather. But I have connections, you know? I can call someone from..." Garth scrunches his face in thought.

This guy can't even remember things he should keep track of. In spite of his unease, Dean decides to take pity on him. "The National Weather Services?"

“Yes!” He pounds his fist on the table loud enough to startle Chuck on the other side of the room.

The knot that formed in his belly starts to loosen. A shaky laugh bursts out of him. Benny smiles. He can’t believe they even thought this guy could be a threat. He seems like a nice guy if not a bit weird, but he’s definitely not a hunter. Oh, he’s trying alright. Possibly a newbie. But with how it is, it’ll be easier to convince him there's no case. 

Of course, Dean’s still going to check if there’s a case, if only to stop something like this happening again. But Garth doesn’t have to know that.

“Look, kid,” because the guy’s big round eyes make him look like a five-year-old. Dean pats Garth on the shoulders. “There’s nothing weird about the weather. This happens all the time. And besides, what can the FBI do about it?” He makes a move to leave.

“Wait!” Garth says.

Dean turns around and comes face to face with another piece of paper. It’s the guy’s card, and Jesus, Dean thinks this guy’s actually using his name and not an alias for his cases. He hopes this guy will live a long and fulfilling life in a different profession.

“Just call me if something else happens, please. I don’t care if it’s weird. I’ll be staying in town for a few days anyway.”

Dean’s tempted to throw the card in the guy’s face to make him leave faster, but he’s not that much of an asshole. Besides, he remembers wanting to do a good job. He takes the card and puts it in his pocket.

“I’ll call my colleague from the NWS, I swear.”

“Sure, kid.” Dean sighs and makes his way towards the kitchen.

“He’s cool, I promise!” Garth shouts after him. “John’s amazing!”

Now, John is a pretty common name. There’s absolutely no reason for him to worry. None. But with the way the day is turning out to be, he doesn’t believe in luck anymore.

“What?” he finally whispers. 

“Yeah, John Winchester. Do you know him?”

Dean stops. His fingers clench on nothing, marking grooves on his palms. His entire body is stiff like he’d just been electrocuted. There was a time when hearing that name brought him relief; relief from having to always be on guard, relief from knowing backup is coming, and relief from the knowledge the man is not dead. But now, there's nothing more Dean Winchester wants less, than for his father to find him here in Angel Pass.

* * *

If there’s one thing Dean doesn’t miss about hunting, it’s research.

He’s been in the library for hours trying to find a breakthrough with the case. The place is old and beautiful but has absolutely nothing of help to the case. The red bricks and old world feel of the exterior might have lured him into thinking it’s packed with old books, but the interior has been renovated multiple times that it looks anything but old world. Its shelves are stocked with mostly best-selling books of the past century, ranging from fiction classics to trashy erotic Fabio novels. Which Dean definitely does not read.

Right, research.

It's not even a case as far as he's concerned. There’s not much to go on. Usually, he’d have a general idea where to start from the news articles that caught his eye. It’ll lead him to examine the victim’s body, question some witnesses, do more research on the possible monster, find their location with the occasional grave digging, and then finally, gank the monster.

But this time there’s no body to examine, no witnesses to question, no possible monster to research, definitely no grave digging, and most importantly no anything to gank. The only thing he knows for sure is that it's been raining more than usual.

The weather is just the same as it was yesterday and the day before that. It starts with an overcast sky in the morning until it pours entirely by the time the sun sets. The state of the diner is just as similar.

He didn't want to leave the diner at all. It had taken a lot of coaxing and bribing from Benny to get him to take one step out. Benny had to assure him he'd already called Krissy, one of the part-timers to come in. But it had taken Garth showing up at the diner with wide smiles and more questions that made Dean finally leave. 

His first lead was to check the town’s history in case this sort of thing already happened in the past. It turns out, the library didn’t keep a good compilation of old newspapers. Some kind of tragedy probably occurred in the past since there are a lot of documents missing. It could also be possible the library is keeping their more sensitive documents. The most he could find were front pages of significant events in the town’s history. It was interesting, but there was nothing pertaining to freak weather occurrences aside from the occasional mention of a rainy day. 

There was actually one small column that caught his eye. On May 31, 1907, one Mrs. Buchanan mysteriously disappeared from her home. According to the article, there was nothing to suspect it was foul play. However, it heavily implied that Mrs. Buchanan may have been drowned by her husband because of how her disappearance coincided with the revelation of her husband’s cheating. Mr. Buchanan refused to be interviewed for the newspaper.

If it were a normal case, he wouldn't even blink an eye at the information. But it's the most interesting death he's read on The Herald. Most of the deaths were of old age or sickness and the front-page reports were town events of some sort. It would have been a great lead, except he's pretty sure ghosts don't have the ability to control weather. It's still the most he's found in the four hours he's been here, so he copied it down on the cheap notebook he got from Walmart.

The supernatural section wasn't much help either. There were a few books that looked promising but they turned out to be some kind of holistic crap written by a psychic. There were also a few books that had compilations of famous creatures. Some of the data were correct but some were obviously rooted in fantasy and folklore. He scanned the book for creatures that could control the weather. There were quite a few actually, ranging from fairies to lower gods and goddesses. He wanted to dig deeper but the information written was just a summary since the book was more of an encyclopedia.

Of course he tried the internet too. Upon searching "freak weather occurrences," the first results were scientific explanations of extreme weather occurrences like a thunderstorm with quarter size hail, a menacing shelf cloud, or even a full-fledged blizzard. Nonstop rain just doesn't count as freaky enough.

Then, he tried searching "non-stop rain". The results were just as discouraging. There may have been other towns with the same problem, but there was no pattern between all of them. Some had fatalities while some did not. They all lasted different number of days. So, it seems like they occurred naturally, although some are claiming they were biblical. Eventually, the rain just stopped one day. He saved the pages anyway.

His best bet is talking to the librarian. He just has to tread lightly. He's not exactly known to be the kind of guy who hangs out at the library. And anything he says to her might spread like wildfire to the other townsfolk. He doesn't want to leave the town if shit hits the fan.

Dean sets the books he took out on the counter. Suzy looks up from her computer with a smile on her face which turns to mild surprise when she sees him. "Dean?" she asks.

"Hey, Suzy," he awkwardly waves at her.

"Hi! First time seeing you around here," she smiles before taking the books from the counter. 

"There's a first time for everything, right?"

She chuckles, "Well I'm glad you're taking a liking to reading," she eyes each one curiously before scanning the books.

"Supernatural, huh?" she raises the supernatural encyclopedia at him. "Didn't think you were the type."

Not knowing what to say, Dean just offers a polite smile. She smiles back and continues checking out the rest of the books. If he wants to get somewhere with the case, she’s his only bet. Not only is she a librarian who probably read everything in here, she’s also a local.

“So, I was looking through your archives,” Dean clears his throat. “But I noticed you don’t have a lot of them exactly.”

“Sadly, no,” she says while arranging the books. "There was some kind of fire about a few years ago which destroyed most of our records."

Dean frowns. There goes the hope that Suzy was just keeping it to herself.

"What are you looking for? Maybe I can help you?" she says.

Her hands are clasped over the counter and her eyes are shining with excitement as if she can't wait to get digging. If she's this eager about doing her job, then she probably knows a lot about local history. But there's still something that stops him from outright asking her. God, he's really rusty at this kind of thing.

"I'm just..." Dean pauses, "I'm just curious about the weather. It's kind of weird, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess?" she nods but there's a hint of confusion in her tone. "What's that got to do with whatever you're looking for?"

"Well, I was wondering whether this kind of thing has happened before. You know, freaky rain?“

To his surprise, she doesn't seem to be annoyed by his question. Instead, she stares at her computer with a thoughtful look. She types something on the keyboard after a while and then scrolls through the computer a bit longer.

Dean taps his fingers on the counter and looks around the entire library. It’s just as empty as the diner with maybe a bit more patrons. Huh. Maybe Benny was unto something with the weather thing. Although he doesn’t really know how many people came here before the rain started so he can’t be sure. And anyway, unlike them, the library doesn’t have to rely on the customers for their salary.

“I’m sorry.” Suzy interrupts his train of thought. “I didn’t find any records of any of that sort happening.”

Dean nods. He was expecting as much.

“What’s this for anyway?”

“Umm…” Dean muttered intelligently. Crap. This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. Once upon a time, he would have been able to lie through his teeth. But he seems to be more rusty than he thought because the only thing he could come up was, “It’s for a book I’m writing.”

 Which was probably a mistake judging by the excited expression that Suzy is giving him. Telling a book-lover he wrote books probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

“Wait,” she grabs his arms tightly. “I didn’t know you were an author! What genre do you write? Have I read any of your books? Let me guess. I bet you use a pen name!”

“Woah, Suzy,” he removes his arm from the death grip she’s been giving him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally let’s go with her cheeks stained red. “I’ve just never really met a writer before. I’ve tried organizing book signings here, but there’s just not enough people for them to make the trip here.”

“It’s fine. It’s just…” Dean rubs the back of his neck and looks down. “I’m not really an author yet. This will be my first novel.” It’s a much better lie.

“Wow. That’s really cool,” she nods her head eagerly. “You can always come to me for help.”

He believes her. It’s just a shame he’s not actually writing a book. She would have been a saint. Now he just feels bad for lying. The place has mostly been a bust. He can’t wait to go back to the diner and lose himself with the work instead of focusing on another problem. He thanks her and says goodbye.  As he’s about to leave, a thought occurs to him. He turns around to face her.

“What do you know about local legends?” Dean asks.

"Quite a lot actually,” she smiles, probably glad to be of help. “What do you want to know?"

“Well…” she thinks about it for a bit. “There are a lot of stories about monster sightings. There’s the usual ghost story, the occasional vampire, and even fairies. But the most famous stories in Angel Pass are the stories about mermaids.”

"Mermaids, really?"

She gives him an unimpressed look. "We live near the pacific ocean. Of course we’ll have stories about mermaids."

"Right, sorry."

"There are plenty of mermaid ‘sightings’,” she does the air quotes with her hands. “I’m pretty sure most of them were just made up to get more visitors. But there was one story that became really famous,” she leans closer to him. "You know, your house?”

Dean nods.

“According to legend, a mermaid lived there once.”

Of course it was his house. Of freaking course.

“Really?” He’s never heard of real mermaids before. There are just too many conflicting information about mermaids since it’s one of the more popular creatures right up there with vampires and werewolves. It just so happened he’s met his fair share of vampires and werewolves but never a mermaid.

“Yeah, if you believe in that sort of stuff,” she says.

The thing is, Dean does.

* * *

A few more days pass without any incident. The sky was just as bleak but the rain has tempered into a drizzle at its worst. 

Honestly, he still doesn’t think it’s a case. If it were just him, the most he would have done was take note of the freaky weather and wait until something else happens. There’s still a huge chance it’s just that— the weather. But he can’t just do that, especially if Garth refuses to leave town.

He’s even been to the library according to Suzy. She dropped by the diner one day to take out some pie. While paying at the counter, she pointed out Garth sitting on one of the table to Dean as the weird guy she met at the library yesterday. She stopped by his table on her way out. Dean was too far to hear what they were saying, but he swears Garth kept looking at him funny the entire night. So, asking Suzy again is out of the question in case he and Garth ask about the same thing.

There’s a part of him that just wants to tell Garth he was once a hunter too. He’s worked a lot of cases his entire life and there’s nothing to suggest this one is a case. But Garth seems like the kind of idiot who’ll talk about him to potential hunters. No matter how much he’ll promise to keep it secret, with Dean’s luck, it still might reach John. He doesn’t even want to think about what he’d do if John shows up. And it’s already too late to use a fake name.

Right now, the only thing he’s focusing on is waiting and searching for something to happen until either Garth leaves for good or Dean finds a monster he can gank before Garth notices. 

He’s still keeping out for other leads to open up. He’s added reading the local newspaper and scouring the coast for potential clues to his morning rituals. He’s not even sure what he’s looking for. In the meantime, he’s going with what little he’s found.

Suzy was right, of course. With a town this close to the sea, most of the legends would center around the huge body of water. He’s not sure if he believes it’s a mermaid responsible for the weather. From what he remembers reading and just generally watching TV, mermaids can’t control the weather. At the moment his best guess is some kind of water deity. But there are so many lesser gods and goddesses capable of such feats across different cultures that he can’t narrow it down until something else happens.

He’s also been searching his entire house for clues at night right after closing the diner. He isn’t really expecting anything to come out of it. It’s just a small two-bedroom bungalow he’s already explored from floor to ceiling in order to lay out traps and sigils. After combing through the entire house a few more times to be sure, he decided to focus his energy on the surrounding area instead.

After a few more days of the same thing, Dean decided to try something new today. There’s an area near his house he’s never really visited. It’s harder to get to because of all the rock formations he has to climb over. Either that, or he could use a boat to go to the other side. Dean’s not yet that desperate nor does he have the money for a boat. At least he’ll finally get to use the rock climbing shoes Benny got him as a gift.

The rock formations are beautiful. It makes Dean think of rectangular chocolate bars stacked side by side. He may have been smart enough to actually use proper shoes to cross it, but he was still stupid enough to forget he has to use gloves. After climbing for what felt like hours, he finally made it to the other side with his fingers scraped and bleeding. He covers up a moan as he washes his bloodied palms in salty water before carefully wrapping them in a piece of cloth he ripped out from his shirt.

The other side… is pretty much the same as his side. It’s the same view he gets when looking out to the ocean and there’s just as much sand everywhere. Although there’s some kind of cave by the sea. It’s not really a cave, more like rock formations that joined together a bit further from the coast.

As he makes his way towards it, he sees a flash of black enter the cave.

He falters in his step. As far as he can remember, there’s absolutely no way for anyone else to get into this area. Looking around, the area is boxed in by rock formations all around. Of course, someone could have come in from the sea, but there’s no sign of a boat anywhere. And if he’s not wrong, although he wishes to god he were, that was a little girl.

Dean runs towards the mouth of the cave. He tiptoes to enter.

The cave is just more of the same rock from outside but a bit taller and darker. The way forward is blocked by a wall of rocks, but there’s a small pathway of sand on his right which could lead somewhere. There’s bit of light that lets him see his steps. He’s just taking a few steps when he hears a sweet and melodious laugh. That definitely sounds like a little girl.

He slowly makes his way around the cave. He doesn’t hear anything more so he’s not sure if he’s on the right track. When he turns a corner, the cave opens into a wide cavernous pool.

Dean sucks in a quick breath and becomes suddenly still. The place is absolutely breathtaking. The pool reflects the sun streaming down from the natural skylight and the water is a clear blue that showcases the rock beds underneath it. It’s like something straight out of a dream.

But what Dean can’t take his eyes off, is the two people sitting at the edge of the pool. One is the little girl who brought him here. She looks about three or four-years old with extremely long black hair. And she’s also sitting on the lap of a creature he only ever thought was made up by Disney— a freaking mermaid.

No, a merman.

Because that’s a man, alright. His short brown hair is mostly wet and clumped together in loose curls. Defined arms and stomach make him look lean and strong. Only the pale blue scales creeping up from the man’s butt and blending into the skin of his back are visible. But Dean can glimpse an outline of a tail submerged in the pool.

The merman’s brows are furrowed and his plump lips are turned down in concentration as if he’s dismantling a bomb and not using a shell to comb the little girl’s hair. It’s the most ridiculous and beautiful thing Dean has ever seen.

He tries to take a step forward quietly but ends up kicking a small rock that tumbles towards the two. Their heads move towards the source of the sound and they both freeze when they see Dean. Immediately, the merman throws the little girl back into the pool.

Son of a bitch. That thing’s actually going to drown the girl.

He pulls out his gun and points it towards the merman. It starts in surprise and his tail spreads out. Before he can look closely, the merman jumps into the pool, his tail flops and blows a gust of wind at Dean. The merman pops out of the water a second later with his arms ready at his side. The clear water gives him a view of what looks like the mermaid’s tail, but it’s nothing like Dean expected it to be.

It’s not the kind of tail he’s seen multiple times on mermaids in movies. In fact he hasn’t seen anything like it at all in his entire life. The merman does have a usual tail body like what he’s used to seeing. But the fins at the end aren’t the usual forked fins. Instead, they’re attached in a half moon around the tail body. The merman has so much fins that it looks like ruffled shiny blue cloth swaying in the water.

Dean is so mesmerized that he doesn’t notice the cave getting darker until he hears the unmistakable sound of thunder. Of course the weather chose that exact moment to act out. Great. Now, he’s going to be trapped with a mysterious creature that Dean has to lure away from its prey.

Blue eyes lock unto green. Dean is helpless.

The cave continues to darken with alternating flashes of white light. The unmistakable sound of thunder reverberates through the walls. As the sounds and light show get stronger and faster, the merman grows paler and his eyes duller. The merman clenches his fists and a bolt of lighting hits the opening of the cave. A few rocks fall to the water.

Oh. He’s behind it.

“Who are you?” Dean croaks.

“Castiel.” the merman’s voice is rough and deep like waves crashing to the shore. “I am a warrior of the sea.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think? I'd love to hear what you have to say!  
> I'll try to post updates every Friday!
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://elizamas.tumblr.com)


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